The Little People(Prologue)

                                                               Little People 

                                                              PROLOGUE


  (This story is about my poor father's ordeal with Delerium Tremens, alcoholism, and suicide.)

      I grew up in a medium family of 6 siblings(7 countings myself), a fantastic mother, and a very troubled loving father. My hometown where I grew up was Bardstown and is located in Kentucky about 40 miles south of Lousiville. We were devoted Catholics and attended a quaint little parish and a church called St. Thomas that was only 4 miles from our filled home, we never missed a Sunday or Saturday service, religion wasn't a choice in our family of 9, it was an obligation.
     My dad was an epileptic who abused alcohol to control his convulsions, he was also disabled from several back surgeries that he never complained about and who never received a dime from the government, my poor mom earned most of our income and dad managed to eke out a few dollars from time to time when he was well because he could fix anything mechanical or electrical, he could tear down any engine and restore it like it was off the factory line, once he restored an old 1944 International Harvester Farmall tractor, and he took it completely to the ground by himself, the tire alone weighed over 200 pounds and that's not counting the tonnage on the frame, he painted it and redone the engine, he was so proud of it and hated to sell it, but we were in a financial bind, he stayed drunk for 3 months after he sold it. Yes, my dad was a talented man, a brilliant man, but also a troubled man inside. 
     Dad from time to time when he drank and ran out of whiskey(his preferred choice) would be very abusive to us, he'd demand we get him a fifth of whiskey, now we were children, but mom would give in only to keep him comfortable but a fifth would only subdue him for one day, and mom didn't have the cash to support him. The aftermath following those days when he was coming off that wagon was cruel hell for my family we escaped when school was in session but summers were pure misery. This endless loop would exist his entire life and woe to my family the torture that consumed and followed us all the days of his life.